


it's always been us

by carminare



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, just a small look into their life together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28226220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carminare/pseuds/carminare
Summary: Oikawa Tooru had been a constant in his life. It had always been them both. Together. So it was no real surprise to Hajime that he fell in love.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53
Collections: Haikyuu Secret Santa 2020





	it's always been us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stringendos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stringendos/gifts).



> hi rina!! here's some iwaoi for you! i hope you like it! happy holidays!! ^^

Iwaizumi Hajime couldn’t remember a moment in his life in which Oikawa Tooru wasn’t present. There was, of course, a time before they met but Hajime had no recollection of it. Oikawa had been there, always, so much so that he knew there had only been two constants in his life: volleyball and Oikawa Tooru, and they were both weaved together in such a way that he was aware that to try and untangle them would be impossible, that getting rid of one meant getting rid of the other. That he could never get rid of either anyway. 

There had been nothing slow about their friendship. They collided and stuck together. There was no explanation for it, either. They had met in the playground and decided they’d be best friends. They started volleyball together, they grew up together, they won and lost together. They fought a lot about little things (who was taller and who slept on the floor during sleepovers) and about big things (overwork and life decisions). They kept each other in line. They learned from each other. They leaned on each other. It had always been them both. Together. So it was no real surprise to Hajime that he fell in love. Everything about falling in love with Oikawa Tooru had been slow. 

The way Hajime always felt braver with Oikawa present, the way his silliness became charming, the way _Iwa-chan_ rolled off his tongue, the way his body was made of flesh and passion, the way he cared about so much more than himself, the way pride dripped from his fingertips, the way he fell and recovered, the way his footsteps were steady in the worse situations, the way his posture was kinglike. The way he turned the ball in his hands. The way he brushed his hair back. The way he smiled with his whole face. The way his voice was like a sweet melody. The way his lips formed Hajime’s name. All of it came slowly. 

It happened so slowly, it took him until his third year to realize Oikawa flirted with him constantly. There were little touches, little gazes, little comments that Hajime had never noticed before as anything else but teasing. He never noticed the way Oikawa’s eyes trailed down his legs or stuck on his arms. It was hard to stop noticing it when he started; it was hard to keep a straight face. So, he started reciprocating. Putting a hand on his waist to steady him, softening his voice when speaking his name, leaning onto him when watching a video together, sweeping his hair from his face. It made Oikawa blush every time. It made Hajime feel desired. 

And still it took them some time to actually _do_ anything about it. 

It wasn’t until the day they lost against Karasuno; until it felt like they barely had any time together left. It wasn’t until they were in Oikawa’s room, staring at each other, with their walls completely broken by exhaustion and fear. Oikawa had not invited him because Hajime had no reason to be there. Except he did. 

“Would you kiss me, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa murmured, “if I asked you to?”

The question hadn’t been a surprise but it still knocked his breath out. Hajime took some heavy breaths before nodding slowly. His throat was too tight for him to speak and the warmth of Oikawa’s room made it hard to think.

“Kiss me,” Oikawa said. “Please, kiss me.”

Hajime did. Slowly, shyly, afraid of it, like a devotee being allowed to touch their deity; in awe of it. He held Oikawa’s face and it felt warm and sweaty and the way Oikawa sighed and fluttered his eyes closed made Hajime’s knees tremble. He took a second to admire the face of his best friend, eager but steady, waiting for Hajime, always waiting for him. He leaned in and connected their lips softly, just a feather-like touch to build strength and then he felt Oikawa smile and push harder. Their mouths crashed and Hajime had always heard about love leaving you breathless but he felt like that was the first real breath he ever took, like he had been living his whole life suffocating.

Oikawa tasted sweet from what he had been drinking earlier and salty from the sweat. One of Hajime’s hands found a place on the dip of Oikawa’s waist and the other cupped his face. Oikawa shivered against him and ran his hands up Hajime’s torso. That night, Hajime was unmade and put back together again by Oikawa’s lips. He didn’t say the words dangling on his own, he kept them close to his heart and promised to say them only when there wasn’t any more space for them in his body. Until then he’d wait.

Until then, they went on dates. They took naps tangled together. They laughed and fought, like they always did. They practiced volleyball and kissing. They shared it all again but with the knowledge that they were finally on the same page. They silently dreaded the day of their separation. Their fight about Hajime’s decision to drop volleyball was a hard one but the weight of the upcoming distance that would settle between them was heavier, so Oikawa accepted Hajime’s decision, relieved by the fact that he was still striving for a career in volleyball, just not on the court. Oikawa’s decision to move to Argentina had looked rushed but had been considered too much for Hajime to oppose it for long, so he didn’t. It was curious that they’d eventually be in the same continent, like they needed to share the same land under their feet. 

Oikawa left first, leaving his hugs and kisses and the warmth of his hands behind. Hajime wasn’t at the airport, he had exams to prepare for and it would’ve hurt too much anyway. They saw each other the night before and tangled themselves until there was no way of distinguishing between them. They barely even talked. Oikawa’s heart was beating loudly and his hands trembled slightly. Hajime knew he was scared. So, he took those hands on his own and kissed them until they were warm and steady. He held his boyfriend, his _best friend_ , and reassured him they’d be fine. He whispered promises to Oikawa’s hair and wrote them on his back with his fingers, just in case. 

“I love you,” he said, the words finally too big for his body. “It’s always gonna be you.”

Oikawa cried and kissed him and said it back over and over again. Hajime pledged to never forget the way those words sounded coming from Oikawa’s mouth. 

When he woke up the next morning, the air felt cold and humid, promises still hanging, swirling all around him. He allowed himself a moment to miss Oikawa, just a moment to let his absence sink in, and then he got up and got to work. His study sessions were interrupted by Oikawa’s selfies: at the airport, on the plane, in Argentina. They kept him focused but left a dull pain in his chest. It was that all throughout university. Their relationship was filled with late night calls and early videocalls, constant selfies and texts left unanswered but not unread. It was painful to hear Oikawa talk about feeling lonely, about not really understanding the language, about not being able to connect with his team. All Hajime could give him were reassuring words, lighthearted insults and an open ear.

The first time they saw each other again Hajime was nervous. He hadn’t seen Oikawa’s face in front of him, flesh and blood, in a year. But when the plane landed and Oikawa walked through the gates, when Oikawa started running towards him with a big smile on his face, Hajime knew there was nothing to worry about. Oikawa’s lips were still soft and sweet, his hands still gripped him passionately, his body, now firmer and stronger, was still steady. And Iwaizumi Hajime was still in love with him. Saying goodbye was still hard, it still left him feeling empty and disoriented, but it was also easier, now that he knew they’d still be them when they saw each other again.

The years went on like that. Oikawa taught him spanish phrases that he couldn’t use anywhere because, according to him, it was “argentinian spanish”. Hajime taught him ways of preventing an injury, ways of figuring out if his body needed a rest. They both made new friends and lost old ones. They both grew stronger, kinder, surer of themselves. Oikawa got better at taking selfies. Hajime never truly learned. They considered taking a break. Once. The idea was quickly discarded. Hajime watched some of his matches online, staying up late into the night. Oikawa helped Hajime study for his finals, waking up very early in the morning. Hajime called him after every match won. Oikawa called him the day of his graduation. They never apologized for not being able to be there, although he knew both of them felt sorry.

When he moved to the USA, Hajime thought they’d be able to see each other more, but their schedules still didn’t match. It was easier, however, to keep in contact, their time zones closer to each other. It helped when one of them hit a wall, reached a possible dead end in their careers. Oikawa facetimed him so that Hajime could meet his teammates. Hajime facetimed him during lunch so that they could chat. It made them feel closer to one another, like they could stretch their arms and hold hands. Hajime went to one of Oikawa’s matches and saw him play in person for the first time in years. His back looked bigger at the service line and his focus seemed unmatched. The team moved like one, Oikawa setting the rhythm. It was beautiful. It made Hajime’s palms itch.

When Oikawa received his argentinian nationality, Hajime felt a bit sad. He knew it would come, eventually, he knew it was what Oikawa wanted. But somewhere inside he still hoped for them to be in the same team again, for them to fight alongside each other once more.

“But _we are_ a team, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa had said to him under the morning light, the sun spilling over his naked back. “It’s always been you and me.”

They saw each other one last time before Hajime moved back to Japan to work with the national team. They were both elated not only because it was Hajime’s dream job, but also because they’d be opponents, because they’d stand on opposite sides of the court, just like they’d talked about the night they lost against Karasuno. Hajime met old rivals again and got acquainted with players he had only heard about. He had missed the feel of the court, the smell of the balls, the touch of the net. He worked close together with the Monster Generation, as the public liked to call it. He tended to their bodies, he made sure they were in shape, he made sure injuries were as uncommon as he could. They prepared for the Olympic games with everything they had. It was a good team, Hajime knew, it was a very good team.

Oikawa was oddly silent on the day of the first match —it had felt like destiny that one of the first matches was Argentina vs Japan— but it made sense when he appeared, leading his team, chin raised high, chest out, footsteps heavy. Always making a scene. Hajime wanted to both hit him and kiss him. Seeing Oikawa on the opposite side of the court made his skin prickle and his hair stand. They had only been opponents during practice matches back in high school. Now, Hajime was equal parts terrified and excited because Oikawa was good, really good, and he was looking at Hajime like he was hungry. Argentina was now the 4th best team in the world, thanks to Oikawa’s setting. Japan had been able to win against Argentina before but never with Oikawa leading them. It was exhilarating. 

Oikawa walked towards them, hugged Hinata momentarily, and then walked straight to him, making a show of ignoring Kageyama and Ushijima. 

“Iwa-chan,” he said. 

“Tooru.” The name came out of his mouth softer than he intended and he saw Oikawa smile a tiny, honest smile. “I will kick your ass.”

“Sure you will,” Oikawa said, then kissed him lightly on the lips and murmured, “But later.”

Oikawa Tooru had always been a constant in his life, just like volleyball had been. They were so weaved together, that Hajime couldn’t untangle them if he wanted. Having them both again in his life, if only for that little moment in the court, felt like the culmination of his life. The ring in his bag would disagree. The match started. Oikawa served. Hajime fell in love a little bit more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments are always welcome!  
> You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/keijiis)!


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